


Kingdom Keys

by BurningBehindMyEyes



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adult Frisk (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Female Frisk (Undertale), Human/Monster soulmates are really rare, Multi, Soulmate AU where monsters can access their soulmate's magic and humans get a physical trait, Undertale Monsters on the Surface
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-08-05 23:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16377449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningBehindMyEyes/pseuds/BurningBehindMyEyes
Summary: There was a small, brown-haired girl slowly sitting up after having knocked Papyrus out of the way of a spear. As she opened her eyes, her left erupted in dangerous blue fire around a pupil that clearly did not belong to her. Another attack was launched, the little human closing a fist and bringing a wall of bone up to defend herself. Papyrus sat up, closing his gaping jaw and standing. The attack faded, the tiny human allowing the bone to sink back into the dirt. The skeleton stood, stoking his magic to a blinding roar the likes he'd never had to inyears. After all, the stakes had never been this high; Sans would kill him if he let his brother's soulmate get hurt! He was The Great Papyrus, he would never allow harm to befall the holder of his brother's heart!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so I have no idea what I'm doing

Playfully, Papyrus and Undyne had started tussling in the middle of the street. Papyrus supposed, later, that to the other humans and monsters out and about, it looked less like a friendly tussle and more like serious violence. Exasperated, Alphys had erected a barrier so only kin of either Papyrus or Undyne could get through. As Papyrus had readied into a defensive stance, he had seen Alphys pull out her cell phone and press a few buttons,. Bringing it up to her face. As Alphas hqd called Sans to come and break up the fight, there was a disturbance across the centre of the barrier as a small body broke through. As Undyne hurled a spear towards him, a small body knocked into Papyrus’ head chest, sending the skeleton to the ground. Papyrus’ head knocked against the stone, his vision blacking out for a moment. When he forced his eyes open, there was a small, brown-haired girl slowly sitting up from Papyrus’ ribcage.

As she opened her eyes, her left erupted in dangerous blue fire around a pupil that clearly did not belong to her. Another attack was launched, the little human closing a fist and bringing a wall of bone to defend herself. Papyrus sat up, closing his gaping jaw and standing. The attacked faded, the tiny human allowing the bone to sink back into the dirt. The skeleton stood, stoking his magic to a blinding roar the likes he’d never had to in _years_. He was The Great Papyrus, he would never allow harm to befall the holder of his brother’s heart!

Only kin could enter and that would definitely include _his own brother’s soulmate_.

\---

Sans had always known that he had a soulmate. Someone out there. Humans often adopted physical traits of their soulmate that would help them identify each other, but monsters could call upon their soulmate’s magic and use it. It made things a lot easier when looking for your other half. Up until about six years ago, Sans had never felt his soulmate.

Not from lack of trying, but every time Sans had reached out with his SOUL, he had felt no response. As his own SOUL had gotten stronger, he was able to sense the SOUL tied to his own and sometimes got flashes of their emotions. Many other monsters had believed that Sans just didn’t _have_ a soulmate. But he knew better. So when he was sitting in Grillby’s bar, nursing a bottle of Grillby’s new spiced ketchup and his soulmate _pulled_ for magic, followed by a rush of fear that he knew didn’t belong to him, Sans knew he didn’t have much of a choice.

He dropped the bottle, the lid popping off and ketchup oozing all along the floor. Grillby stepped out from behind the back, startling slightly at the blue waves of magic that radiated from Sans’ body, especially from his left eye. Sans hummed lightly as he pushed the magic to the surface, before exhaling, and pushing his magic back towards his soulmate. Sans felt the other SOUL latch onto his magic, Sans sucking in a breath lightly.

He felt his soulmate drain a piece of his magic, enough to shield them. He felt his soulmate let go of the magic, the SOUL’s guilt and shame at having to rely on another burning through him in waves of depressed purple. Sans snarled in response, fiercely throwing spikes of pride and love back towards his soulmate. The SOUL balked slightly, but lightened with shades of embarrassment. Sans smiled. They seemed quiet, a little uncertain. The other SOUL pulsed in goodbye before it fled back to the edges of Sans’ perception.

Sans released the tension in his ribcage, opening his eyes. He couldn’t help his ever-present grin from growing larger and larger, stretching across his face. Grillby was watching carefully from the other side of the bar, his face unreadable.

“So… you do have a soulmate.” Grillby stated, dryly. He brought out a mop bucket, giving Sans a stern look. “You couldn’t have put the ketchup on the table first?”

“Hehe… my bad.” Sans had the grace to look ashamed.

“Do they not have magic?” Grillby asked conversationally as he absently wiped a glass out. Sans shook his head, the butterflies in his stomach nearly working themselves into a frenzy over the sheer amount of joy being flung through his veins.

“I don’t know.” Sans hummed. ‘Sometimes I get flashes of power that I know aren’t my own. But I don’t think they know how to use it very well.” Sans hopped off his bar stool, stepping behind the bar and grabbing a cloth, beginning to clean up the ketchup on the floor. When he stood back up, Grillby had gone back into the kitchen and there was a new bottle of ketchup sitting on the counter. Sans was touched by Grillby’s actions, sitting back down onto his stool. He hummed under his breath, the elation still burning bright in his chest. Sans; soulmate was quiet and rarely interacted with him. Even the brief moments of communication between them… Sans treasured them.

From the pocket of his blue hoodie, Sans’ cell phone started buzzing, Papyrus’ ringtone of “Paaaaaaasta” from that one anime echoing in the empty bar. Sans lazily grabbed his cell, bringing it up to his face and clicking the talk button.

“Hey, bro.” Sans greeted cheekily. “What’s-”

“SANS!” Papyrus damn-near shouted through the receiver, Sans wincing and holding it away from his face. “You must - where are we, Alphys? - … you must come to the corner between the nice cream shop and Temmie’s store! I, the Great Papyrus, have found your soulmate!”

Sans felt the cell slip through his fingers and hit the floor with a soft thump.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans is a dork!!!!!

Sans didn’t think he had ever taken a shortcut faster in his life than he did in that moment. He watched the bar glitch out of his vision before vanishing, a brief moment of blackness overtaking his vision. He reappeared right in front of Temmie’s shop, wildly looking back and forth. Up closer to the Nice Cream Shop, Papyrus stood, hands on his hips and laughing, sticking his ribcage out.

Sans could see the tell-tale signs of his little bro desperately trying to make a good impression. Sans felt anxiety fly up his spine, his hands nervously playing with the joints between his fingers. He looked down at himself, patting over the ketchup stains on his hoodie and bringing the corner up for a quick sniff.

With wide eyes, he took a quick shortcut back to the penthouse he and Paps lived in, appearing straight into his bedroom and throwing his jacket onto the ground. He grabbed his dresser drawer, nearly ripping the drawer open and proceeding to grab a folded, soft-looking hoodie. Sans took another shortcut back to the street, sniffing the new hoodie. He released a contented sigh at the soft lavender scent of Paps’ laundry softener as he shrugged the hoodie on and straightened the sides. He fluffed the hood fur up, sticking his hands in his pockets and praying the clean hoodie would cover up the smell of ketchup.

Sans subtly coughed into his palm, wincing at the smell. He grabbed the packet of mints stuck into one of the inner pockets of his hoodie, popping open the cap and throwing it into his mouth. Sans turned towards his brother and Undyne, the fish lady now chuckling and reaching forward to something - someone - in front of Papyrus.

Sans squared his shoulders and thrust his hands in his pockets to hide their shaking. Even though he didn’t need to, he sucked in oxygen and released it, letting his face fall into a steady, easy grin. He intentionally stepped on a little stick, the crack having Papyrus turn around and scowl.

“Brother!” Papyrus scolded. “I still cannot believe that you hung up on me; I was still talking!” Sans could feel Papyrus’ eyes searching his face, taking in his shaking wrists, his faked grin, and the fluffed and straightened hoodie. It had looked as though Sans had finally taken some pride in his appearance for once, the shorter skeleton even bending down and fixing his lopsided socks. Papyrus’ eyes softened as he stepped aside. “I suppose I can forgive you this time, brother. After all…” Papyrus put his hands back on his hips, striking a pose heroically. “I, The Great Papyrus, have found your soulmate!” Sans was pretty sure that the words weren’t even registering, so he just agreed.

“Yeah, bro. You’re the coolest.” Sans only had eyes for the human female that Papyrus’ tall frame revealed. She was short and thin compared to most humans Sans had seen. She had dark brown hair that was cut in a swing bob that curled around her neck, close to her shoulders. She looked to be in the mid-twenties, with darkly tanned skin and prominent bags under her closed eyes. She had small shoulders and long fingers, slightly rounded cheeks hiding sharp cheekbones and an angular jawline.

Despite what the normal was, the person who Papyrus had claimed was Sans’ soulmate was undeniably a human. A human and a monster.

Sans had always found humans attractive. Human males, human females, and Sans didn’t know what kind of monster that made him. As he eyed the solid dark blue sweater she was wearing, the sleeves slipping past her fingers as she shifted, he wondered what kind of human that made her.

Suddenly, Sans’ eyes were glued onto nearly black eyes as she lifted her lashes and stared Sans down.

“Say, human…” Sans began, awkwardly, sticking a hand out. He watched Undyne’s grin grow larger, Papyrus squealing eagerly. “Don’t you know how to greet a new pal?”

The human stepped forwards, raising a skinny arm. The sweater slid off, revealing a scarily thin wrist and Sans immediately became filled with determination to see her well fed in the near future. She clasped Sans’ bony fingers, her grip stronger than he expected. There was the sickly yellow of a fading bruise close to her thumb, small enough. It looked like a light impact - she must bruise easily.

Sans made sure his grip was gentle. He had never really interacted with humans. He worked directly under King Asgore, as a Lord responsible for the monsters’ justice system. Sans had no idea how much pressure a human could stand - was he crushing her hand?!

He glanced upwards and she didn’t seem to be in any pain. He released her soft skin a moment, sticking his hand right back into his pocket so it’s shaking wouldn’t betray his nerves. He smiled softly as she brought her hands up, lips pursing. Sans’ eyes widened as she began to gesture with her hands, movements careful and slow.

**Thank you. For your help earlier.**

She watched him nervously, eyes scanning his face. Sans dipped his head slightly, trying to hide a chuckle. He looked back up, seeing the resignation just start to set in. “Are you deaf?” Sans asked, using his hands at the same time as his words. She startled, lips curling into the first smile Sans had ever seen from her. She had deep dimples on either side of her cheeks and he could almost see the steam rising from his eye sockets. She shook her head back and forth vigorously, hair flying back and forth.

“My older brother speaks in hands.” Sans explained, his fingers following the motions absently. “So there shouldn’t be any issue in communicating with you!” from the distance, a bell rang out that signaled some sort of change for the humans. She turned at the noise, spinning on one heel. She grappled with the leather bag at her side, pulling out a pad of paper and a pen.

Sans studied the rings on the paper as she scribbled, before ripping the page off and thrusting it at him. He grabbed the material at the corner, dropping it before scrambling to catch it again. As he struggled, she had run off, one hand on her bag to keep it steady. Sans looked up as she left, boots pounding against the concrete. Her figure steadily grew smaller, Sans taking a look down at the paper in his hands.

Written onto it was a name, Frisk, and a number. Her letters were thin from the pen’s sharp point, slight indents from her pressing too hard. Sans clutched the piece of paper to his chest, not noticing as his eye lights went from little lines to hearts. Gleefully, from the side, Undyne was snapping pictures, giggling the whole way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk and Co!

Frisk could not believe she had just done that. She’d handed her name and number off to her soulmate - who was still a _stranger_ , no less! - and then just run off! She sighed, clutching her bag closer to her hips to ensure her laptop didn’t get jostled too badly. King Asgore had wanted this city to have an old, chiming, clock tower, just like the cities in his stories. Out of respect, and the slightest bit of amusement, the human government had approved the plans, the monster and city council working together on a project meant to build morale.

Now, the same clock struck 1pm, the time when Frisk was supposed to meet her sister for lunch. If she was late, Chara would tell Asriel, who would tell Mom, who would tell Asgore! Asgore, then, would have a country-wide Guard search party public and mobilized within half an hour, and Frisk’s secret would be out!

No one knew the Dreemur’s had adopted a third child. Technically, Frisk was formally Toriel’s daughter, but Asgore had been a father to her for years now. If he were to formally adopt her, she’d hold the same royal title of Princess as Chara did.

As Frisk rounded the corner to the cafe she was supposed to meet Chara beside, she noticed her older sister standing outside, tapping a foot anxiously. When Chara started to rummage through her pockets, pulling out her sleek cell phone and raising it to her ear, Frisk increased her pace, bulldozing straight into Chara’s back.

The older girl grunted, turning around and quickly pinning Frisk to the side of the building. A moment passed, Frisk imagining Chara’s red eyes widening behind her dark sunglasses.

“Frisk!” Chara scolded, releasing Frisk. “Don’t do that! I could have seriously hurt you.” Chara’s mouth was set in a hard line and Frisk could see the disappointment Chara held for herself. Frisk shook her head, patting Chara’s arm comfortingly.

“What kept you?” Chara asked, a perfectly trimmed eyebrow raising. Frisk shrugged and brought her hands up.

**A fight broke out. I stepped in and used my soulmate’s magic. One of the monsters in the fight said his brother had the same magic, so he called him. I met his brother… Sans, and gave him my number. I-it’s him.**

Chara raised both eyebrows, fingers twitching. “Frisk…” a slow grin started to appear on her face. “We need to get out of here and call Azzie! And Mom and Dad!” Frisk giggled silently as Chara linked their arms and dragged her away.

Chara’s eyes scanned the street, quickly dragging Frisk down an alley. Frisk’s sister was wearing a black t-shirt with a green leather jacket overtop. She had on ripped black jeans and studded, heeled ankle boots. Her sunglasses covered a good portion of her face, her hair pulled back into a messy bun. She looked wildly different than she usually did when reporters saw her, but one could never be too careful.

Frisk let her sister lead, mind daydreaming. She had very limited magic, which could only be unleashed when she was in mortal terror, but Chara’s magic was red-hot and always ready to go. Frisk trusted her. The smaller girl turned her attention back to the skeletons she had met only a few minutes earlier. Papyrus had been tall, cape bravely flaring in the wind. Somehow, some way, his cape and all other superhero-esque attire vanished the moment the fight ended, replaced with a button-up, collared shirt and a nicely pressed pair of pants.

He had smiled at her, so genuinely after she had landed on him. He had turned back to his fight, throwing Undyne to the ground. Frisk knew who she was - unofficially, Undyne was Asriel’s bodyguard. Undyne had no reason to remember Frisk, but the fluttering of the woman’s neck fins had betrayed her curiosity at seeing Frisk. Papyrus had yelled something about soulmates, pointing to Frisk’s glowing left eye. She had watched Undyne’s jaw drop before Frisk had clapped a hand over her eye, stifling the magic.

Frisk had closed her eyes and concentrated on her soulmate, trying to seem strong in the face of their strength. The waves of pride had embarrassed her to the point of withdrawing from the connection, leaving the warmth of her soulmate’s flame. She had started paying attention when Papyrus squaked indignantly as someone hung up on him. A few sentences later, she had realized he had called his brother, who apparently was her _soulmate_.

Papyrus and Undyne had started reassuring her, talking about Papyrus’ brother, Sans. They laughed about his puns and were in the middle of telling a story about how Sans had once tried to enroll himself in dental school and almost graduated when the skeleton himself had started walking down the street towards them. He’d been wearing a fluffy blue hoodie, a t-shirt on underneath. He wore gym shorts and carefully groomed fuzzy slippers. Unlike Papyrus, Sans had seemed colder, much more aloof and distrusting, and had kept his hands in his pockets the entire time until Frisk had started signing.

She wouldn’t lie. She was intimidated. Maybe he was trying to look cool?

She didn’t understand. He had seemed so detached, even relaxed, while meeting her, his supposed soulmate. She just didn’t think that warmth of her soulmate really matched the strange skeleton… but she had sensed the magic dormant inside of his soul and it matched the one she had just borrowed.

He was it and she had no idea how she felt about it.

Frisk hadn’t even realized they had arrived at their location until Chara was opening the door, dragging Frisk inside. It was a little wooden cabin just outside of town. While technically, it was in Chara’s name, all three of the Dreemur siblings used it whenever they needed some time alone.

Asriel was already waiting inside with little sandwiches and tea when they walked in. Chara propped her sunglasses up onto the top of her head, grinning as she spied their older brother sitting at the table with a cup of slowly steaming tea in his paws. Asriel tilted his head at Chara’s wide grin and skipping and Frisk smiled sheepishly in response. It wasn’t, after all, that Chara came into a room skipping often.

“Frisk met her soulmate!” Chara announced, grabbing a chair and expertly spinning it under her hands. She turned it towards herself, pressing a hand down onto Frisk’s shoulder and forcing the youngest into the seat. Chara spun Frisk back towards the table before taking a seat herself, eagerly picking up a sandwich and her honey lemon tea. Asriel squealed, the high pitched sound grating against Frisk’s ears. She winced, hand that had been reaching for her own cup of chai stalling.

“Oh, sorry Frisk.” Asriel hushed himself quickly, eyes alight with excitement. “I’m just so excited! Tell me all about him - I want to know everything and don’t you dare leave you any details!”

Frisk felt the corners of her mouth lifting up beyond her control. She brought her hands up after quickly taking a bite out of Asriel’s famous egg-and-cheese sandwiches. **His name is Sans and he’s a skeleton! He’s… he’s intimidating. I’m not really sure what to think of him. It’s hard to match up what I’ve felt of him and what he was actually like.**

Asriel nodded in understanding, seeming to sparkle. Frisk knew he actually got it. Asriel and Chara were soulmates, albeit platonic ones. Asriel was asexual and Chara was aromantic, so Chara could go out and find her sexual partners and Asriel was currently dating another monster. They were there to emotionally support each other and as much as Frisk hated to admit it, she was often jealous of the effortless close relationship they had.

“What’s his name?” Asriel asked, his feet nearly vibrating under the table. Frisk brought her hands up again after polishing off a triangle of her sandwich.

**Sans.**

Asriel’s surprised face caused her to stop chewing, instead reaching for her tea. She had the sneaking suspicion that she’d have to ask a lot of questions in the near future.

“Sans? As in, Judge-Jury-And-Executioner-Of-The-King-Sans? Sans the Skeleton? One of the most deadly monsters in the world? The Lord of Judgement?” as he talked, Chara started to look more and more concerned, taking a loud gulp of her tea, her brow furrowed in thought. Frisk shrugged.

**We didn’t really get to talking about his job.**

Her hands were shaking. She had heard of Asgore’s Lord of Judgement before, but she had never met him. His name, face, magic, and even type of monster were all kept secret to the public. Only the King, Queen, and his heir were in the know. Until today, apparently. The Lord had been rumoured to have murdered hundreds of monsters and possessed some kind of time travel magic. Monsters whispered on the street that he was cruel and he was merciless. Frisk wondered how much of this was true.

“I imagine this has gotten a lot more complicated, huh?” Chara asked conversationally. Frisk could only nod her head in agreement, bringing her hands up once more.

**This doesn’t change anything for me. He’s still my soulmate. Rumours and gossip of his cruelty are not going to stop me.**

“Does anything ever?” Asriel grinned, though the concern in his eyes was palpable. “After all, Frisk… if anything, you’re always DETERMINED.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus invites Frisk over for dinner.

As soon as Frisk had opened her mouth in a silent yawn, she had immediately been sent to take a nap, shooed off by a concerned Chara and Asriel. She had taken a short nap, waking up on her bed of a soft, memory foam pillow and pastel blue covers. She sat up, the blanket someone, likely Asriel, had placed over her body as she rest. Frisk winced slightly as she brought a hand up to fiddle with her ears.

Calling herself deaf was the easiest way of communicating it, but… she wasn’t completely deaf. When she was a young child, before getting adopted by the Dreemurs, Frisk had gotten a nasty ear infection that her birth parents had refused to treat. The infection had completely damaged her inner ear to the point that Frisk could only pick up on extremely high-pitched sounds. She had been years behind her peers in communication since, being unable to talk to any of her classmates. Upon seeing her anxiety surrounding classes, Toriel had pulled Frisk from her elementary school and homeschooled her. According to Asriel, when they had first adopted Chara, she was mute. There was nothing medically wrong with her, but she had refused to say a word. The Dreemurs had all learned sign language as a result, and quickly taught Frisk as well.

That her own soulmate would be able to communicate with her… Frisk sighed and turned over, nuzzling into the pillow slightly. If Sans really was the Royal Judge… that would mean his older brother was the Royal Scientist. She had heard that he spoke in hands and that, while he appeared terrifying, was a good person to have on your side. Frisk had never heard of the two having a younger brother, but she supposed with their reputations, it may be better for Papyrus to stay out of it.

Frisk toyed with a loose thread on the neckline of her sweater, thinking. The Royal Scientist was rumoured to have used live humans and monsters as experiments without asking the King first. The Royal Judge was rumoured to be callous and cruel, someone who enjoyed hurting others. That wasn’t a great reputation, Frisk knew, and yet… they were only rumours. She had no way to tell if they were true or not. Frisk clenched her fist, eyes narrowing.

She absolutely **refused** to base her opinion of her own soulmate on gossip. She would let her own interactions with Sans drive her impression of him. Frisk went to bring the blankets back up to her chin, still feeling sleepy, when her cell went off. She twisted her head around, glancing as the device buzzed once, the screen flashing before it went black again. A text then?

She sat up, hand reaching for the cell. She cupped it in her hands, using her fingerprint to unlock the device and clicking on her messages app, noting that another two texts had come through. It was from an unknown number, and for some strange reason, written entirely in capital letters. _HELLO HUMAN FRISK!_ it read, _IT IS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS! I RETRIEVED YOUR NUMBER FROM THE PIECE OF PAPER YOU GAVE TO MY LAZYBONES BROTHER._ Frisk felt a gentle smile stretch across her face. Lazybones, huh? Maybe Sans wasn’t as… distant from being a real person as he seemed. _WE WISH TO GET TO KNOW YOU BETTER, SO I HAVE DECIDED TO INVITE YOU FOR DINNER TONIGHT! I AM MAKING MY FAMOUS SPAGHETTI! IF YOU ARE AVAILABLE, PLEASE COME TO OUR HOUSE FOR SIX PM!_

Papyrus had attached his and Sans’ address to the bottom of the text. Frisk giggled slightly to herself - Papyrus seemed like such a sweetheart. She checked the time on her phone, 4:26, and quickly typed out a response to Papyrus, stating that she would absolutely love to come over. He responded far quicker than she expected, her grin widening further. She could just imagine him sitting by his cell, staring at the screen and pressing it every time it went dark. He noted that he would be letting his brothers know that she was coming, and that he was very excited about it. Frisk rolled out of bed, bringing her blankets with her as she shuffled towards the closet. If she was going to meet her soulmate’s brothers, she needed to look nice. Not still in her wrinkled sweater and stained jeans from when she accidentally spilled tea on herself earlier at lunch. Frisk hummed as she went through her closet.

She selected a light pink, long sleeve, knitted sweater that was smaller than the one she was currently wearing. She threw the old sweater into her laundry basket, slipping the new one over her head. She slipped off her pants, exchanging them for a navy skirt. She kept on her black ankle boots, quickly slipping on a few bracelets she and Asriel had made. Frisk walked over to the mirror, quickly running a brush through her hair and absently twisting her earrings. She had gotten her first and second piercings on her lobe, but Chara had one day decided that she absolutely needed more piercings. Frisk had gone with her, and while Chara got an industrial bar through her left ear, Frisk had adopted for a tiny 14K white diamond stud as a daith piercing on both ears.

Frisk carefully covered her ears with her hair. Some people didn’t like it when they saw her piercings. Perhaps they really didn’t suit her, so she decided she would wait before letting Sans and his brothers see them. It wouldn’t be good to make a bad first impression. Frisk opted to forgo makeup; after all, all it ever did was make her face itchy.

She skipped out of her room at 4:56, gently opening her door and waving to Asriel and Chara, who were having a non-verbal conversation, not even talking in hands. Frisk could only tell they were chatting as they watched TV on the couch because they were gesturing and reacting as though they were talking. It was something she and Asriel had developed over time, eerily telepathic conversation.

Frisk smiled fondly, closing her eyes before stepping into the kitchen and grabbing her bag. She placed the strap over her head and onto her shoulder, letting the bag fall back down to her hip. She shuffled through her mess, deciding to clean it out and organize it before she would start heading over to the skeleton brothers’ house. It wouldn’t do to make a bad first impression on the eldest brother, nor a bad second impression on Sans or Papyrus!

\---

“I, the Great Papyrus, have done it, Sans!” Papyrus announced. Sans huffed slightly in fond exasperation, sharing a small smile with Wings. They were lounging on the couch, Sans propped up against a pillow and laying down, Wings fit in between Sans’ legs and the back of the couch, an arm propped against the top of the couch to steady himself. Wings turned his head to acknowledge their youngest brother as Sans paused the nature documentary they had been watching about turtles. It was a daily tradition!

Papyrus puffed himself up at the attention, Sans sitting up and staring at his younger brother. Sans raised an eyebrow as Papyrus held his phone out. He had been acting strange since they had gotten home from meeting Frisk, staring at the screen and poking it every time it darkened so that it couldn’t go into sleep mode and save battery. “Now, Wings,” Papyrus began. “Because Sans is such a lazybones, I know he has not told you! But something excited happened today!” Papyrus grinned, nearly bouncing up and down in his elation.

If Sans had skin and blood, he would have felt it drain from his face at the moment. Instead, he felt his eye lights go out in his sockets. Sans felt Wings perk up in interest as Papyrus drew in a breath to continue. Sans had wanted to tell Wings about Frisk in his own time. For monsters, a soulmate was serious business. They quite literally held a monster’s SOUL within them. If they bonded and Frisk wanted to, she could tear Sans’ SOUL to pieces. And as a monster with only 1HP, that was a worrying thought indeed. Sans had wanted to get more information about human/monster soulmate pairs before bringing it up to Wings. Sans wanted to interrupt, knowing that if he seriously glared at Paps, his younger brother would shut up, but Sans just couldn’t do it. Paps looked so excited…

“Undyne started a tussle in the streets,” Papyrus explained. “So Alphys created a barrier that only kin could go through. And, guess what, Wings!” Papyrus exclaimed, clapping his hands together. Wings brought his own hands up, gently signing **Elephants.**

“Noooo!” Papyrus groaned, deflating. “Not elephants! And not giraffes either!” Papyrus yelled, pointing at Wings accusingly. Their older brother put his hands up in defeat, smiling. Papyrus huffed again. “Sans’ soulmate! She saw Undyne attack me and thought me to be in danger, so she intervened and shielded me from Undyne’s spears using Sans’ magic, so I recognized who she was immediately!”

Sans carefully glanced at Wings, who had gone scarily still. Their older brother’s jaw had unhinged from the rest of his face and dropped, his eye lights gone. Sans sunk a little deeper into the couch.

“She’s a human and her name is Frisk!” Papyrus grinned, bouncing on his heels. “She is like you, Wings - she speaks in hands! She is deaf… right Sans?”

“Uhh, yeah bro. She’s deaf.” Sans said, glancing up as Wings shifted. Their oldest brother had clear tears budding in his eye sockets as he turned to look at Sans. Sans felt his chest fill with a slew of emotions at the pride that shone from the grin Sans saw growing on Wings’ face. Their older brother sniffled once before leaning forward and trapping Sans in his arms. Sans returned the hug, squeezing his brother and inhaling the scent of Papyrus’ favourite laundry detergent. Wings’ black turtleneck was soft against Sans’ face.

“I invited her to dinner so you could meet her, Wings!” Papyrus said. Sans blinked once, the words registering. He stiffened, Wings letting him go in concern as Sans felt his sins crawling up his back. “She’ll be here in about an hour!” Papyrus chirped, blissfully ignorant of Sans’ internal crisis. Sans untangled himself from Wings and looked around their living room, their shared horror beginning to dawn on Wings’ face. As they stared out into the mess of ketchup stains, dirty socks on the floor and stuck to the ceiling, empty bags and bottles scattered along with floor, along with an ugly amount of crumbs, Papyrus finally started to get it. As one, they looked up to the ceiling, eyes flickering from coffee stain to ketchup stain to the enormous mustard stain from that one time they had a condiment fight in the kitchen that carried onto the living room. There were articles of clothing hanging from the light, pieces of dust gently floating down to the ground, the calm before the explosion.

_And this was just the living room._

Absolute capital C Chaos erupted as Sans let out the shriek of a dying man, lunging off the couch and onto the coffee table, scooping up crumbs and chucking empty containers into the general direction of the kitchen. Wings immediately bolted from the couch, all-out sprinting to the closet where they kept the cleaning supplies, cleaning rags being thrown into the living room from that hallway, the vacuum turning on a second later. Papyrus swore once, loudly, before grabbing one of Wings’ rags and jumping up to the ceiling, scrubbing furiously at the stains. 

Sans finished with the coffee table, taking a shortcut to his bedroom. He looked around in despair, fingers scrabbling at his head as he took in the dozens of dirty socks, that stupid thank-you letter to Santa he wrote because, well, Papyrus, and, oh yeah, what he was forgetting here- **THE FREAKING TRASH TORNADO**. Sans flew through his room, picking up socks and sending them downstairs for Wings to either suck into the vacuum or pick up. Sans didn’t really care either way, if the vacuum ate them, he’d just get them out later. 

He could hear crashing in the kitchen as Papyrus took over, the sink running furiously. Sans grabbed the Annoying Dog, opened his window, and just chucked the animal out. It howled as it fell, its eyes promising revenge in the sweetest form. Sans shut his window, shoving the treadmill over to a corner of his room so it would look more organized. He booked it for the closet between Wings’ and Papyrus’ bedrooms that held the fresh sheets, rifling through a choosing a nice dark blue sheet for his bed and a light cream pillow case. He quickly fitted them to his bed, hands shaking as he glanced at the clock. 

“FORTY MINUTES UNTIL SHE’S HERE!” Sans hollered as he booked it from his room, quickly wheeling around the corner. In his arms he held the masses of dirty socks and other clothes he had managed to emass, throwing them down the railing. Sans heard the sound of the vacuum leaving the ground, a muffled thump, likely as Wings used the instrument to knock the items into the laundry room. The vacuum vanished from the living room, Wings beginning to ascend the stairs. 

Papyrus came rushing out from the kitchen, armed with two full bottles of Febreze. Sans read the label of “Linen  & Sky” as the bottle flew at his face, Papyrus having extended his throwing arm and chucked it as hard as he could. Sans caught the bottle, flipping it in his hands and letting his eye lights darken. He and Papyrus shared a look before they began flipping throughout the house. Papyrus immediately went after the floor below Sans, little spews of mist following him everywhere he went. Sans brought his finger to the trigger, heading into his bedroom with the bottle pointed like a pistol. He hid behind the wall, letting out a breath before moving in. He sprayed the walls and his pillow, taking careful steps. After he believed his room to be secure, Sans turned his attention to his true enemy. 

The Trash Tornado. 

Sans stuck a foot into the tornado, dislodging some of the trash. Carefully, he picked piece by piece of the trash out of the tornado, until there was no more trash left to spin, and threw it inelegantly in his closet. Sans shut the door, glancing at the bulging closet. Sans shook his head, the clock reading 5:35. Sans stumbled down the stairs, Wings shutting his vacuum off after doing the stairs and upstairs hallway. 

Papyrus yelled across the house that he was going to start on dinner, vanishing into the kitchen. Wings brought his hand up to his mouth, whistling loudly. Sans’ head snapped over to his older brother, watching as Wings brought his hands up and began signing quickly. 

**Sans, I will hoist you atop my shoulders and we can clean some of the dust off the windows.** Wings’ face was hardened, his eyes scarily cold. Sans nodded once, not wanting to go against his older brother’s wishes. Wings gripped at Sans’ ribs, his grip gentle. He brought the shorter skeleton up, over his head, and onto his shoulders. Sans stood, using Wings’ skull to balance. Wings’ used his fingers to safely secure Sans’ feet to his shoulders, gripping into Sans’ fluffy slippers. 

Sans leaned down and grabbed a rag that had been hanging from one of Wings’ pockets, leaning back up and wiping at the windows. Once they finished one pane of glass, they moved onto the next, until it was 5:59 and Wings let Sans down. The doorbell rang, the brothers freezing. 

“SANS!!! GET THE DOOR!” Papyrus screamed from the kitchen. Wings rushed into the hallway, closet doors slamming shut as he went. Sans made for the door, straightening out his hoodie and brushing his shorts off. Sans looked down at his feet in horror, kicking his slippers off and throwing them down the hallway Wings had gone down. 

His older brother took a running start and slid just behind Sans as the shorter skeleton reached for the door handle. Sans opened it, but was in no way prepared for what he saw. Frisk stood there, hair brushed and with a new sweater and skirt on. She still had her bag on her hip, her hands raised delicately, her fingers playing with the joints on the opposite hand. 

“Uhh, h-hey Frisk. Come on in.” Sans spoke out loud as his hands moved, a habit from learning sign language in the first place. Sans opened the door wider, letting Frisk inside. She glanced around curiously, and Sans could see through the corner of his eye how Wings watched Frisk attentively, looking for any sign that she had seen a speck of mess. There was none so far, the girl bringing up both hands shyly. 

**Thank you.** she signed, turning towards Wings. Sans’ older brother straightened at her attention, his eyes betraying nothing. But Sans could clearly see how nervous Wings was. Sans got that feeling - Frisk was his soulmate! Sans knew how scared he was the first time meeting Paps’ soulmate. He’d been desperate to make a good first impression. Soulmates had so much influence over their other half… Sans didn’t know what he would have done had Mettaton not liked him or Wings and convinced Paps of the same. Thankfully, Mettaton and Paps’ brothers got along well, the robot often coming over to visit. Sans knew they were in the process of moving in together, but Paps wasn’t sure if he wanted to move out yet. Sans watched as Wings smiled happily, watching Frisk’s hands for every little detail. 

**My name is Frisk… I’m assuming you’re Sans and Papyrus’ older brother? What is your name?** Frisk asked, hands flying. Wings responded with a speed that Sans could barely keep up with, Frisk replying in kind. Sans glanced away from the two, a soft smile on his face as Wings silently shook with laughter, Frisk bringing a hand up to her face to stifle giggles. 

Sans didn’t even notice the dopey, in-love look that graced his features as he watched Frisk laugh, but from where he had stuck his head out of the kitchen, Papyrus was shaking with laughter as he brought his cell up. Undyne would really appreciate some new embarrassing Sans photos. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO Venelona MADE SOME FREAKING AWESOME FAN ART FOR THIS FIC!! GO CHECK IT OUT, HERE'S THE LINK: https://venelona.tumblr.com/post/179453093910/dork-fanart-for-frans-fanfic-kingdom-keys


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Annoying Dog comes for his revenge!!!

Sans stole looks around the table, mechanically moving his spoon from his plate to his mouth and back again. He let the food slip down his gullet, just enough monster ingredients so it would fill up the skeleton brothers but wouldn’t have any strange side effects on Frisk. Sans’ soulmate was sitting at the table, eating quietly, and Sans watched in half-awe, half-horror as she delicately swallowed her food.

On one hand, it was relatively impressive that she’d managed to keep any and all sauce away from her sweater. Of course, should she have dirtied her’s, Sans would have swooped in and offered her one of his own. Not… not that he wanted to see her in his clothes, of course. Of course not. That would be ridiculous.

Sans tried to keep the bright blue blush from his face but nothing could escape Wings’ perceptive - if not slightly judgemental - gaze. His older brother shot Sans _the look_ , to which Sans ducked his head and coughed lightly under his breath, glancing back up when he was sure the blush had vanished from his face.

Sans wasn’t really sure how Frisk was doing it. Papyrus made fine monster food. In fact, no one could whip up quick but filling meals as well as Papyrus did, except for maybe Grillby. But human food? Sans had watched three humans - three humans too many, if you asked him - vomit after eating Papyrus’ attempts at human food, dozens more looking a little green, but still swallowing and giving Papyrus some gentle tips, like _maybe a little less salt, but good attempt!_

But here Frisk sat, eating the noodles like it was actually palatable. Like she _liked_ it. When she had first picked up her fork for a bite, Papyrus had tensed, watching her face intently as she lifted some of the twirled noodles to her mouth. She brought it to her lips, Sans closing his eyes and bracing himself for the onslaught of emotion that would be sure to follow. Frisk wouldn’t like it, and Sans was sure that his soulmate was a good enough person to pretend to like it for Papyrus’ sake, but Papyrus would see right through her. He’d get that disappointed little slouch, the light in his eyes would go out in shame, and he’d be panicking, thinking that Sans’ soulmate didn’t like him.

In response, Wings would have desperately tried to get Frisk to like other things about the skeleton brothers to the point that he’d be trying too hard and she would leave and never come back and-

But Sans’ panicked story hadn’t come true. Frisk had just eaten her pasta, then genuinely complimented Papyrus on it. Sans’ younger brother had stilled, watching Frisk’s face carefully for any tell of her lying to him. But he had found nothing, and Sans had watched in amazement as Papyrus simply _glowed_ , sitting up and tucking his chair in, eyes sparkling as he watched Frisk eat.

Sans nudged at his own pasta, pretending to be swirling the noodles on his fork. He was doing his best to focus on the monster food part of the, uh, dish instead of the human part. The sauce was watery with random chunks of tomatoes and tomato paste swirling among the red water, a thick layer of oil coating the top of it. Sans grimaced as he brought a soppy noodle mess to his mouth, but dutifully ate it. Sans and Wings had made a pact, long ago, when Papyrus first started cooking; that they would eat everything he made for them, even if it sucked. The noodles were seriously overcooked, and after drowning them in the sauce, they were basically mush. Sans curiously summoned a tongue to poke at them, humming as they completely fell apart from the first poke in his mouth.

Sans watched Frisk chew, sighing happily. They weren’t talking, but the air was full of companionable silence and the occasional sparkle that Papyrus gave off. Sans frowned as one hit him on the cheek, leaning away from the little star and flicking it away from himself. When Sans let his eyes raise to go towards his brother, who had chosen the seat with his back to the window, that was when Sans saw it.

Right outside the window was a medium-sized, white, Annoying Dog.

Sans froze in his chair, eye lights going out as the dog stared him down, the promise of revenge in his evil eyes. Sans slowly brought his right hand over to Wings, tapping his older brother on the arm. Wings glanced over at Sans, taking in his brother’s horrified face. Wings looked up, into the direction Sans was pointing in, and likewise froze. The brothers stared the dog down as he stared back, nose twitching as he regarded his victims with very little apathy. Sans felt a whine rise from his throat as he realized that no one had locked the window.

Sans swore there was an evil little smile on the thing’s face moments before it burst through the window, barking, muddy paws scrambling across the table. Sans leapt out his chair, murder in his eyes. He let his magic flare wildly, left eye erupting into flames. He ignored how Frisk gasped, not seeing her hand fly up to clutch at her chest. He lunged for the dog, but having jumped forwards a second too soon.

The dog jumped over Sans’ head, leaving his footprints across Sans’ skull. Wings summoned a few bones, crashing through the table and barely missing from skewering Sans. The dog leapt through the air and down the hallway, Papyrus flipping the table with Sans still stuck on it. He jumped over the table, struck a quick pose, and then bolted down the hallway, crashes and glass shattering following.

Sans groaned from under the table, wiggling out and hissing at the tomato sauce staining his hoodie fluff. He looked up sharply as the vacuum turned on, the dog running from the hallway, followed close by Papyrus, followed by the vacuum that had someone magically turned on and was now chasing the pair across the living room. Wings bravely grabbed the chord of the vacuum, the machine going haywire and slamming Wings into a closet. The doors burst open, dozens of dirty socks and empty cans falling out onto the floor. The dog made a sharp left, heading straight for the stairs.

Sans swore loudly as he realized exactly where the dog was going, ignoring Wings signing at him to watch his language, the vacuum cord wrapped around Wings’ pant leg, dragging his older brother along the floor as it rampaged towards Papyrum, who had also started screaming.

Sans took a desperate shortcut up to his room, getting there just quickly enough for the dog to bowl him over again as it headed for his closet. Sans screeched as the thing skidded, a back paw raised, before hitting Sans’ closet door. The trash tornado burst forth, catching the dog and throwing it back outside the window.

Sans hoped it dusted itself.

The tornado continued spinning, heading downstairs and picking up trash as it went. Sans thought it was pretty fitting as, he too, got picked up by the waves of trash. Sans was thrown from the top of the stairs towards the couches, Papyrus diving to catch him before he hit the floor. The two sat and watched the tornado as it flew through the house, picking up sauce and noodles, chucking them back up to the ceiling. Papyrus let out a noise similar to that of a balloon when there’s a hole in it. From the other side of the living room, Wings had apparently untangled himself and was staring wide-eyed at Sans, his legs spread as far as his shoulders and his arms out. Sans was mildly worried for a moment before seeing Frisk move from behind Wings, and realized that his older brother had lunged to protect Sans’ soulmate.

They could do absolutely nothing as all their hard work was undone, Wings bravely taking the sauce and noodle hits from the tornado instead of letting them splatter on Frisk. The tornado eventually died out to its normal size, spinning back up to its corner in Sans’ room. The brothers were silent, looking back and forth between each other before Wings carefully stepped away from Frisk.

Her eyes scanned the room, taking in all the damage, before a loud snicker escaped her. Frisk nearly doubled over in her laughter, hugging her stomach and making gasping noises as her giggles echoed through their silent house. Sans felt his own grin grow as Frisk continued to laugh, tears escaping out of the corner of her eyes. When she started to teeter on her feet, he quickly summoned his magic to levitate her gently, his blue aura surrounding her soul. She didn’t stop laughing, but completely relaxed in his hold, letting him hold her up as tears streamed freely down her face from laughter.

Papyrus was giggling, nudging Wings, who was just staring at the shards of their table in blank horror. Sans started chuckling, slowly levitating Frisk towards him, righting her and dropping his magic, letting her lean heavily on his frame. She shook against him, Sans carefully wrapping an arm around her waist and patting her back with the other hand. She recovered enough to lean enough to stand on her own feet, but stayed close to Sans.

Sans could feel his SOUL pulsing in his chest at her proximity, his magic filling his body with the energy he’d lacked in years. He felt like he could run a marathon, defeat any enemy, actually clean his room-

**That was so funny.** Frisk’s hands were shaking as her laughter slowly left her, her shoulders still going up and down. **That dog… I see him all the time outside my house teasing MK… he must really hate you!**

Frisk dissolved into more giggles, leaning against Sans again for balance. Sans felt his grin widen even further as he craned his neck around to share his mirth with his brothers. Wings may be having an existential crisis over their destroyed table, but Papyrus was sharing in Sans’ joy.

His soulmate definitely appreciated a good joke, and tibia honest, that was something Sans could get behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for some reason on my computer it says this fic has 3 chapters??? I looked through the chapters, and yeah, there's 4? I'm so confused...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans is a DOOOOOOORK

Frisk honestly couldn’t find it within herself to stop laughing. In a matter of minutes, the skeleton’s entire house had been utterly decimated by one dog and the ensuing trash tornado. Frisk felt her feet teeter over, losing balance as she tripped over herself. She felt her face burn in shame at her awful behaviour, bracing for her face to knock against the ground.

Instead of meeting the ground when she did fall over, she was caught by a wave of blue magic. The magic sparked like electricity over her skin, gently leaving traces of warmth as it levitated her. She sobered up when Sans started floating her towards him, but when she ran a hand through his magic, she could feel his shared amusement at the situation. As Frisk desperately tried to stifle her giggles, she curiously ran her hand deeper into Sans’ magic as it righted her, shifting through his emotions.

She felt her body knock against sturdy bones, a hand curling around her hip as she buried her face in Sans’ shoulder. Frisk took a breath, letting her shoulders shake against Sans. Frisk mentally inhaled, stretching her fingers out towards Sans’ emotions. There was very little she actually knew about him. Even during dinner, he had said very little and whenever she felt bold enough to steal a glance at him in front of his brothers, he had always been looking somewhere else.

The anxiety that maybe he didn’t like her or find her attractive buzzed in her mind, the static fuzzing roughly in her ears. Frisk exhaled, gently looking a little deeper through Sans’ emotional state, the amusement being the most dominant and easily identifiable. Frisk pushed past the humour, into a volatile, tight ball of… stress? She huffed in surprise, her own anxiety about how Sans felt about her receding slightly. She had always worried that maybe he didn’t like her or find her attractive but she never could have imagined that he felt the same. Frisk could feel his fear.

Fear that she wouldn’t like _him_ or wouldn’t be attracted to him, fear about her being disappointed by their house. She saw through Sans’ eyes as he saw similar fears reflected in his brothers, fear that was slowly worming away the longer she laughed. Frisk gently retracted herself from Sans’ emotions, coming back to the real world.

She let her elation show on her face, stretching into a wide grin as she brought her hands up to shakily sign at Sans, trying to explain just why she was laughing so hard. But her laughter was born out of relief, now. She couldn’t understand just how Sans would think that she wouldn’t like him! Her attraction was nearly entirely dependent on someone’s personality. The more she watched them walk, talk, or even interact with others, the more she could see the attractive qualities in them.

Frisk couldn’t understand why he’d think that she wouldn’t like him, or why Wings and Papyrus would believe the same. She could see nothing but innocent kindness in Papyrus, the fierce desire to please and protect the people he cared about. Wings had been much more subtle than either of his brothers, but he and Frisk had found common ground over not only speaking with their hands, but also discovering that they shared a favourite author.

They had discussed the author’s latest book as they sat down to dinner. Frisk remembered how silent all three skeletons had gone when Papyrus gave her a plate of spaghetti and sauce. Frisk could feel the anticipation radiating off Papyrus, so she had tried the pasta, deciding that no matter what happened, she would pretend to like it. She had taken a bite of the noodles… which, actually, weren’t half bad, especially considering her mother’s latest attempt at snail pie.

Frisk had continued eating her pasta happily, noting with some satisfaction at the flux of pride from Sans that had flooded their connection afterwards. She was jolted back to the present when she felt Sans’ fingers flex against her hip, being immediately reminded that she was pressed flush against Sans’ side. She drew away slightly, Sans letting go quickly.

Her soulmate eyed her carefully while Frisk wiped the tears from her face so she cold stand on her own, smothering any further giggles. Sans shared many of the same worries that she, too held. That they’d make a bad impression, that the other couldn’t be attracted to them… it was nothing but relieving to know that Sans wasn’t above this as he had first seemed.

Frisk beamed at her soulmate as he began to chuckle along, Papyrus’ giggles increasing as he caught sight of Wings’ face. When Frisk let out a happy exhale, finally done with her laughter, Wings flew into a frenzy, hands flying back and forth in a slew of apologies. Her poor future brother-in-law was covered in pasta sauce from when he had shielded Frisk from the tornado. Frisk waved Wings’ apologies away, gently picking up a roll of paper towels that the tornado had thrown. She unrolled some of the paper, guiding Wings as to where the sauce was on his face when he missed some as he cleaned himself up.

Beside her, Papyrus grabbed another towel and started helping dabbing at Wings’ skull. Sans stepped into the laundry room to grab Wings a new turtleneck, Frisk turning around to start picking up some of the thrown-about items, hearing the shuffle of clothes as Wings shucked his old turtleneck and put on the new one Sans had grabbed for him. Frisk turned around and blinked softly at Wings’ new turtleneck, which was the exact same colour the previous one had been.

Sans, almost uncaringly, chucked the dirty shirt down a hallway and Frisk watched it impact against a closet door, wondering briefly what that would sound like. Frisk turned to bring the items she had collected back to the kitchen, but something caught her elbow. Frisk turned her head, looking up slightly into Sans’ face. His eye lights flickered back and forth as he studied her, but Frisk couldn’t help but notice the sauce stain that had sunk into his hoodie fluff.

Frisk grinned - she thought that the rougher look quite suited him, much better than the well-put-together image he had donned before. Sans wordlessly held out his arms, Frisk depositing some of the items in his arms. Together, they put the objects back to where they were supposed to go, slowly tidying up the kitchen. Frisk moved to grab a nearby broom and dustpan, but Sans grabbed her bicep, gently spinning her around to face him. Frisk blinked as Sans brought his hands up, but moved his mouth along with his fingers.

“You don’t have to help us clean up, Frisk. We can handle this. I’ll walk you home, if that’s alright? If you can tell me where your house is, I just might know a shortcut.” Sans said, Frisk watching his hands intently. She brought her own up hesitantly, feeling guilty for leaving the brothers with the mess.

**Are you sure? I don’t mind helping.**

Sans shook his head, a hard and determined look in his eyes. Frisk sighed, recognizing that this wasn’t a fight she was going to win. She described the general location of Chara’s house, explaining to Sans that it was outside of town and not actually on any of the roads. He held his hand out, fingers curling slightly.

She could feel his magic begin to stir from their bond. Their connection was steadily growing stronger and he no longer hovered at the very edges of her mind. She had felt him reach out to her numerous times, but no matter how hard she tried, she could rarely reciprocate. There had just been… a barrier between them, one that she hadn’t been able to break until she had seen what, at the time, had looked like a skeleton about to be skewered by flying spears. She remembered seeing a magical dome between everyone else and the fighting monsters. Others were already yelling and hitting the golden-tinted veil, but none had gotten through.

Frisk had known it might be hopeless, but she had run forwards anyway, in the hopes that she could do something - anything - to help. When she had crossed that barrier, something had snapped in her mind, warm blue magic roaring in her consciousness. When she watched the projectiles continue, instinctively, she had _pulled_. Sans had responded immediately.

Frisk knew she could refuse to go with him, make her own way back to her house. She knew that refusing would likely drive a wedge between them, confirm some of the concerns over their relationship he had spinning around at any given moment. She reached out and took his hand, not hesitating in the slightest as his hand dipped under her weight, perhaps not expecting her to have taken his hand so quickly. His fingers curled around her palm, gently encasing her warm flesh between his bones. She smiled, feeling the corners of her mouth turn up in giddiness as his surprise faded into genuine contentment.

The world warped and faded around them as Sans stepped sideways, Frisk falling into place beside him as he slid into a black void, her in tow. She closed her eyes and let him lead, feeling the world fall out of place around her, the only thing keeping her grounded being Sans’ hand around her own. It felt a little like coming home.

\---

Sans dropped her off at the little cabin. He’d been pretty close to the location of Frisk’s house, but far away enough that they’d had to walk. Frisk had refused to let go of his hand, gently swinging it between them as they had approached the cabin.

Sans.ex had stopped working when Frisk leaned forward, her soft lips gently pressing against his cheek, before she scurried inside. Sans had stood there like a complete idiot, jaw unhinged from the rest of his face, blushing like a blueberry. Sans eventually turned away from the door, blush darkening as it spread across his entire face, desperately trying to blink the hearts out of his eyes.

Sans turned once more to look at the cabin, the giddy joy swirling in his SOUL freezing. The window, to the right of the door, had the curtains pulled away and the light on, the warm yellow glow shining from within the house. Sans could see inside, to where a young girl with short auburn hair was laughing, a goat monster blushing furiously beside her, his fur sticking up. Sans recognized those children.

Prince Asriel and Princess Chara of the Dreemur Royal family line. Sans quietly cursed under his breath, taking a shortcut straight back to his bedroom. Downstairs, he could hear Papyrus consoling Wings about the table, murmuring something about going to grab a furniture catalogue for Wings to choose a new table.

As the Royal Judge, Sans was under Asgore’s direct command. He knew damn well who the Royal children were - had, when a witch was running around kidnapping people, guarded both of them without their knowledge - and had long since suspected a third child had been adopted. Whenever Toriel had invited Wings, and by extension Sans, over for tea, he had seen the evidence of another person living at the house. Sans had just assumed Toriel had another kid and that would be the end of it.

But now that was definitely not the end of it, because that third kid was Frisk.

Sans resolved to speak to Toriel as soon as possible about Frisk. If he got lucky, he’d leave with his SOUL intact. If he didn’t, well… he’d draft his will just in case he didn’t come back. The Judge hadn’t been as active in the courts as of late because Asgore had sent Sans on a mission.An anonymous tip had informed Asgore that a group of monsters were planning on kidnapping his kids, but not for ransom. Whether there was human involvement or not wasn’t quite yet know.

According to the tip, they wanted to experiment on the Royal children, particularly Chara. She was an oddity to humans and monsters alike, possessing enough DETERMINATION to manifest magic. The group was evidently a bunch of “scholars” that believed firmly in the Legends. The Legends dictated that there were humans with specific traits: Perseverance, Bravery, Justice, Kindness, Intelligence, Integrity, Honesty, and Determination. Determination split up into two halves: Vengeance and Mercy. The group evidently believed that Chara represented Vengeance, they just wanted Asriel to ensure Chara’s cooperation. Sans felt a chill roll down his spine, his memory helpfully chiming in that the snitch had mentioned one other detail; that there was a “little deaf girl who they think might be Mercy, with’all’a helpin’ she does for monster an’ human folk ‘round town. She’s jus’a civilian, but if they get them hands on her… it won’ be pretty.”

Sans glanced towards the nightstand he had stashed in the far corner of his closet, the one thing his cleaning spree hadn’t touched. He strode forwards, feeling the magic light from within his chest and burn from his left eye. He had already been furious that these idiots were going to try and go after Chara and Asriel. They’d been through enough already and Sans knew that they were good people. Sans trusted Asriel would be a good King someday. His ire at these bumbling morons had only grown every time Asgore would look worried, his concern over his children growing every day the group wasn’t caught, every time Toriel would clench her fists over some fabric, smoke wafting in the air soon after as her magic lashed out on the only thing it could.

Sans had already been prepared to beat the snot out of these guys. But now? Now it was personal.

Sans grabbed the documents out of the drawer, resolving himself to spend the entire night pouring over the files. Man, if this group really thought they were going to kidnap HIS soulmate… heh. They were gonna have a **R E A L B A D T I M E**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans actually does his job!!

Sans stood silently beside Asgore. The King had decided to finally release information about the group threatening his family, reassuring the public by stating that he had sicced his Judge on the case. Sans let out a breath, feeling his mask shift on his face.

Sans’ Royal Judge uniform consisted of a black collared shirt tucked into perfectly pressed dress pants and shined military boots. A long coat covered Sans’ body, which was a dark navy, lined by enormous puffs of grey fluff. The coat had an enormous collar, but also sported a hood, which Sans had pulled up to cover his skull. His mask curled around the front of his face, white and featureless. He had a scythe strapped to his back, a femur bone making up the handle. The Delta Rune was elegantly stitched onto the back of Sans’ coat and the front of his shirt, with the crest of the Judge below it.

Sans kept both his eyelights out, but paid careful attention to the crowd before him. They had no idea who or what he was, and alternated between watching Asgore and fearfully glancing at Sans. All except for a fairly short, brown-haired human, whose chocolate eyes were currently trained on Sans, lips tight and eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Sans grinned from under his mask, basking in pride. His soulmate really was a smart cookie. Sans reached a little into their bond, feeling her SOUL’s presence stronger next to him than it had been in years. Sans looked for any hint of fear, and while there was slight apprehension glowing from her SOUL, she didn’t seem particularly concerned. Sans understood her feelings, after all, he knew he didn’t exactly have a stellar reputation. He knew that the public viewed him as a morally dubious entity that fought and killed for his benefit.

Sans couldn’t really deny that accusation, either, but lucky for Frisk, she was definitely something he had an invested interested in. Sans felt his grin widen as excited magic began to pour out of his left eye, calling to mind her soft hair, the sound of her giggles, the feel of her hip soft against his _bony_ fingers. Heh.

Sans ignored the murmurs that broke out at his display of magic, gently tugging on their bond to get Frisk’s attention. Her eyes narrowed further, suspicion shining through. Clearly, she had suspected that Sans was the Judge and had come here to confirm it. Well, Sans couldn’t exactly leave his soulmate hanging, now could he?

Bringing his gloved hands up, Sans signed out a quick “Hello”, before taking his index fingers and moving them in the shape of a heart. His shoulders began to shake in a silent chuckle as Frisk ducked her head, her piercing gaze leaving his as her face went red in embarrassment. Waves of the emotion pulsed through their bond, Sans eagerly responding with floods of affection, which only increased Frisk’s blush.

Sans let a little heat warm his cheeks, vanishing the magic from his eye. At this point, monsters were staring and pointing, and Sans could almost see the conspiracy theorists’ idea lightbulbs going off atop their heads. One such monster, a cat-like creature, turned their head to look at Frisk, mouth opening before they stared in astonishment at Sans. They started to visibly stutter, pointing between Sans and Frisk several times before Sans caught their eye, having decided to have a little fun. The cat creature stared at him as Sans lifted a gloved finger in a “shush” motion, the monster’s eyes lighting up with excitement. They mouthed ‘I gotta write this down!’ before scampering out of the crowd, running like they had a pack of dogs at their heels.

Asgore had visibly noticed that the crowd was no longer paying attention to him, looking a little lost as to what to do to get their attention back and focused on his speech. Sans watched Asgore bring a fluffy paw up to the microphone, glaring at Sans slightly.

“You got them riled up.” Asgore sighed, fond exasperation crossing his face. Sans grinned at his long, shrugging unapologetically. “Well, I said what I wanted to say. You need to fix this now, Sans. Don’t torture them.” Asgore sighed, breath puffing out in a little cloud as he stepped away from the podium, gesturing for Sans to come up. Sans stepped forward as his King had asked before being flooded with feelings of immense embarrassment and dread from Frisk, a line of _No No No_ following her emotions as they hit Sans like a train. All he did was grin, sending back his booming pride and joy, bolstered by his elation at their first string of being able to telepathically communicate, a louder _Yes Yes Yes_ following. Sans stepped up to the podium, seeing Frisk bury her face in her hands. Sans tapped the podium’s microphone, the crowd falling deadly silent.

Sans had a voice modifier attached to his mask, one that disguised any emotion in his voice, but also concealed Sans’ gender. Sans opened his mouth, the crowd looking up at him expectantly. Cameras were rolling, the flash from pictures was blinding Sans’ eyes, but all he could focus on was Frisk’s overwhelming shame. Not shame at having Sans as a soulmate, he had already checked, but shame in _herself_. She was so damn sure that she wasn’t good enough for Sans, so convinced that _Sans_ had something to be ashamed of in her.

He was going to show her that he would never, ever be anything but proud to call her his other half. He would never, ever be ashamed of her.

“I have found my soulmate.” Sans announced, the modifier warping his voice to something that didn’t sound anything like him. “I will leave it up to her - whether she would like to come up here or not, but I recognize that I have been making faces and gestures at her during the duration of the King’s address. I apologize for causing any distraction to you.” Sans bowed slightly, smirking under his mask, desperately trying to keep his shoulders from shaking in laughter. The complete and utter mortification slamming into him from Frisk called for Sans to send an even stronger wave of joy and love and hope. He refused to act ashamed of his soulmate.

The crowd was silent for a few seconds after Sans’ announcement, before it exploded in waves of shouting and photography. Sans stood straighter from his bow, walking away from the podium as reporters shouted questions from their seats. Sans ducked behind the stage, grinning as Asgore quickly followed him, tears building up in his eyes.

“Oh, old friend.” Asgore breathed, a paw reaching up to cover his mouth. Happy tears cascaded down Asgore’s fluffy cheeks as the other paw reached for Sans, drawing him into a hug. “I am so happy for you… congratulations!”

“You won’t be so happy when you find out who she is.” Sans groused, wincing at the voice modifier. Asgore drew away slightly, raising an eyebrow in concern, wiping away his tears. Asgore knew Sans’ conflicts about his soulmate. At a point, Sans had believed his soulmate was dead. He had become the Judge as a result. “Frisk.” Sans elaborated, watching as Asgore’s mouth opened in surprise. Asgore flashed between emotions, going far too quickly for Sans to catch, before he settled back on tearful happiness.

“F-Frisk found her soulmate? Oh Sans, you’re going to love her!” Asgore started sniffling before Sans offered him a handkerchief. Asgore blew his nose tearfully, his nose twitching. “It’s not me you’ll have to sit back and talk to. Tori will… that is, to say, Miss Toriel will want to give you the shovel talk.” a brief moment of grief flashed through Asgore’s face, but was quickly replaced by his previous joy. Sans studied him carefully, seeing as the large monster placed a paw over his chest and openly wept in relief.

“Are you her father? What’s the… situation, I suppose?” Sans asked, shifting slightly. Asgore took a moment to gather himself, taking a breath before replying.

“Frisk is Miss Toriel’s adopted, legal child. I am a… father figure to her, but not legally. If I were to go through the process of adopting Frisk as my own, she would hold the title of Princess. Both she and Miss Toriel stated that they wished for Frisk to not have to go through that kind of scrutiny under the public eye. While I do not doubt that Frisk would make an excellent Princess, she just didn’t want the attention. Of course, I understand their concerns, so I have financially and emotionally supported Frisk as much as Miss Toriel will allow me.” Asgore explained, hands moving absently in half-formed sign language as he spoke. Sans hadn’t known that Asgore knew sign language. “However, Frisk being your soulmate will link her to you. We’ve done our best to keep your identity a secret, but there are definitely humans and monsters alike who’ve figured it out, and not all of them will have good intentions. We’ll have to weigh the potential consequences of having me adopt Frisk. The title of Princess will place her in the public eye, but it will provide as much protection as my name can afford. It could also place her in more danger.”

Sans shrugged lightly. “At the end of the day,” he said conversationally. “It’s her decision. Something tells me that she’s capable of taking care of herself, she doesn’t need anyone hovering over her to protect her.”

“I still worry.” Asgore sighed as they stepped away from the stage and further into the back of the building, Sans ready to get out of his uniform and take a shortcut home. “She’s my daughter, Sans.”

“I know.” Sans said, following Asgore out, separating from the King so he could walk into a bathroom. Before he went to turn the corner, Sans looked back at Asgore. “She’s important to me, too.” Sans stepped into the bathroom, stretching and rolling his shoulder blades under his heavy coat. He was going to go outside and ask Frisk on another date. Someplace nice - a restaurant maybe?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Stan Lee is dead at 95, after having inspired his own generation and generations to come through his storytelling and world building. This is a really sad day, guys.  
> R.I.P. Stan Lee.


	8. Chapter Eight

Frisk could honestly say that she didn’t think she’d ever been so embarrassed in her entire life. Chara had said that Sans was the Royal Judge… but Frisk had to see for herself. When she walked into the crowd, she had expected perhaps for Sans to either not see her at all, or if he did catch sight of her, to have the maturity to not disrupt Asgore’s speech to make bloody faces at her. Frisk had seen out of the corner of her eye the other monster run for the hills and she had nearly died of embarrassment right then and there. Then, her absolutely ridiculous soulmate _stepped up to the podium and make a **public apology** about his behaviour._ While he had spoken, Frisk couldn’t help the waves of embarrassment that had flowed through their bond, and it had taken a while, as she had to read the subtitles that played on the screen behind them. Sans had responded with pure determination. Frisk really didn’t understand him. She wasn’t anything special, and his position required that he had to be as invisible as possible.

People shouldn’t be able to identify him so he could carry out any missions properly, and if he publicly announced her as his soulmate, then people spotted her and Sans together, they would draw connections between the persona the Judge became, and who Sans actually was. It would be a disaster for him. Frisk sighed softly, shaking her head.

Beyond just Sans, she really hoped that his foolishness hadn’t disrupted Asgore’s speech too much. As both embarrassing and sweet as it was that Sans had gone up to the podium, he had distracted many monsters away from the important message that Asgore was trying to deliver. As soon as Asriel had been made aware of the situation, he had immediately called an emergency meeting at their little cabin and had told both Chara and Frisk. As the Crown Prince, Asgore’s official heir, he was privy to information that neither Chara or Frisk ever got to see. Most of the time, Asriel kept this information to himself, but there were times where he disobeyed orders and conveyed the information to his sisters.

This had been one of those things that Asriel had broken the rules on. Frisk and Chara had known for some time that this group was after them both. Frisk worried at her lip as she stood, watching as monsters dispersed. She opened her purse and let her eyes flick over the items contained inside, making sure she had her keys, wallet, and phone. Of course, Frisk knew why the group was after she and Chara. There was a story behind their philosophy. A story that Frisk was quite familiar with.

In the beginning, back when the human and monster war had first started breaking out, there were seven core principles. Perseverance, Kindness, Justice, Bravery, Integrity, Honesty, and Determination. Determination split in half as time went on, one side becoming Vengeance and the other Mercy. Determination alone could RESET the world and that knowledge had driven all previous incarnations of the red SOUL insane. The ability to merely RESET, to erase your mistakes and start again, corrupted even the purest of SOULS.

Mercy was the dark half. The side that brought pain upon oneself in order to protect others; the tired, battle-weary victim of war who accepted even gunshots with open arms. Mercy would always be the victim, the scapegoat. Mercy suffered so others would not have to. No matter how many times the SOUL of Mercy was reincarnated, the holder always realized that the only way to truly Save everyone was to destroy their own SOUL and put an end to the cycle of RESETS. At the end of every timeline, Mercy would commit suicide over and over, until they finally had enough Determination to fully destroy themselves. The SOUL of Mercy always belonged to a human, however, and humans always had the base instinct of survival. So the SOUL continued, onto the next host and into the next timeline, forever suffering. Mercy represented the Chaos of life, of allowing others to live, and were forevermore trapped in a cycle of suffering.

Vengeance was the light half. Vengeance took control of their own destiny and fought for their own survival. They recognized the truth - that monsters and humans were creatures of selfish absorption. Vengeance found their peace and their happiness in their continued survival. They chose to allow themselves to live and only RESET when they reached the end of the timeline. Usually, Vengeance started off as Mercy; they usually evolved into Vengeance after being mercilessly torn apart by those they once called friends. Vengeance loved their body and their SOUL. In the interest of balance, Vengeance represented Order. Everyone got what they deserved and no one was put under undue suffering. At the end of the timeline, Vengeance allowed their SOUL to dissolve into nothingness with no regrets. Vengeance did not reincarnate; they lived and then they died.

One suffered and the other caused suffering. That was the balance of the world.

According to old stories and legends Frisk had researched for Asriel, real people representing these principles once existed and were responsible for stopping the war. People with history degrees and any kind of education often loudly disagreed with the theory of the seven principles, but many cults had popped up surrounding the legend. According to the legend, each principle had a differently coloured SOUL. Frisk knew for a fact that she and Chara both had red SOULs, as Chara was still fairly scrappy and Frisk got involved in order to calm the situation, but that didn’t mean anything. Most humans had red SOULs.

Over the years, that fact hadn’t stopped these cults from kidnapping people and running terrible experiments on them, attempting to force a RESET. Frisk was fully aware that this newly emerged cult believed her to be Mercy and Chara to be Vengeance.

Vaguely, Frisk found it rather ridiculous. But there was nothing to be done, and she should likely be paying attention to her surroundings rather than being lost far enough in her head that Sans was able to sneak up behind her and tap her on the shoulder before she noticed he was there. Frisk jumped, her anxious thoughts disappearing as the fingers, sharper and harder than any human’s, gently tapped against her shoulder. She turned on her heel, eyes wide, nearly falling over before Sans gently grabbed at her hands, curling his fingers around her wrists and steading her as she caught her balance. When she was steadied, Sans let go, before bringing his hands up to sign gently at her.

**As amazing as Papyrus’ spaghetti is, I really think we should be able to get to know each other without my brothers or the trash tornado breathing down our necks.** As his hands moved, Sans’ face erupted in a bright blue blush, which was strong against his cheeks. His shoulders and chest shook in embarrassed laughter, and Frisk could feel his lingering mortification from thinking about the event. **Would I be able to pick you up any time soon later this week for dinner?**

Frisk felt the smile grow on her face as the warmth grew in her chest. She quickly brought her own hands up to let Sans know that she was busy tomorrow, but the day after, she was free to go for dinner with him. Sans grinned in response, cheerily signing out ‘It’s a date!’ before saying goodbye, signing that Papyrus and Undyne were trying out a new breakfast spaghetti recipe and that Wings was calling for emergency backup. Sans waved as he turned around and left, sticking his hands back in his pockets as he strolled away.

Frisk couldn’t help the giggles from bubbling up in her throat as she spied the muddy dog paws on the back of Sans’ sweatshirt. She thought it was absolutely adorable how Sans had tried for a good first impression, but Frisk honestly didn’t mind if he was a bit of a mess.

She started to walk away from the clearing, heading back to her own apartment in the city. As she walked, Frisk allowed her hand to come and rest by her chin, expanding her senses to view the whole area. Her magic pulsed and flickered around her, monsters and humans lighting up in her vision with the respective colours of their most dominant trait. Her magic wasn’t offensive like Chara’s, but showed her the way to escape a conflict when she got into one. It had been incredibly useful back when Frisk had lived with her birth parents, but once she had met Chara, she had seen Toriel take on her parents, physically and legally, and Frisk had barely had to use her magic since.

Frisk shook her head slightly, banishing the thoughts from where they came from. She just… really hoped Sans wouldn’t be too disappointed in her when he found out the truth about her. Frisk wanted to believe that Sans cared about her, she really did. She knew that if he didn’t actually care, none of his actions would make any sense, but she just couldn’t turn her mind off. She was used to being a disappointment to the people she wanted to impress the most.

No matter how much love and comfort and support Frisk’s new family had given to her free of charge, Frisk’s interactions with her family always had an undercurrent of desperately trying to feel as though she was good enough for any of them. Frisk doubled checked that her turmoil wasn’t leaking through to Sans. Frisk knew that Asgore would likely send Sans hunting after this cult, but she was determined to be as little of a burden as possible.

Sans shouldn’t have to work harder or spend his time trying to protect her. Frisk’s hand curled around her purse, finding the outline of her notebook. As an investigative journalist, she should be able to find enough evidence to crack this case right open. She’d help, whether Sans knew or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-daaaaaa~


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you understand yet?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short, but I felt like it was better to break it up than keep it together. I'm also sorry for not updating, but I just wanted to let you guys know that I was diagnosed with General Anxiety Disorder, so I've been dealing with that... and writing sort of took the back seat. I'm not giving up though!

“Principles. It always starts with morals, principles, and differing opinions. Different people.” their hands trace the glowing red container stuck into the wall, the mass inside pulsating and shrieking soundlessly, straining against the walls of the container in a desperate bid for escape. It was trapped inside this little bubble of a world. The problem, they mused, was that it understood that something more existed outside of their bubble. And because it understood that there was more to their world, more than their RESETS, and more than the void that separated universes. The beings, the two who represented creation and destruction, had not visited this world, nor broken through the void to gain access.

This SOUL had just gained Knowledge. It was how things worked sometimes, they knew, and there was nothing to be done. But they too, had Knowledge. More Knowledge. Their world was not allowed to look like this. Papyrus was not meant to begin living among humans and Sans should not be able to hold onto hope. They watched as the SOUL crashed against the container, cracks seeping through. They hummed - how curious.

Could the SOUL escape entirely? Yellow justice and purple perseverance in smoke creep out of the cracks and the SOUL cries, it’s freedom so close - they meld the cracks together and the SOUL wails in defeat.

“You are supposed to stay there, little SOUL. If you cannot, I will need to do a factory RESET. This is not what you’re supposed to.” they cup the container in their hands and focused in on it. They watched as the SOUL pulsed, ligaments moving in a physical form. They supposed that it did not matter which one they had. Either would work, for the progression began with the second, but the story began with the first.

“Can a story and progression be separate entities? Can a story lack progression and not be a story?” they leaned their face closer to the pulsating SOUL. “Can progression be the experience or the time spent on a story?” they blink, and for that single millisecond, the world stops. For them? For others? Who knows. Not they. “Do you know, littlest one?” they put the container back where it belongs.

They know Sans looks into his papers and mumbles under his breath, but they know that Sans does not have the capacity to understand. Had he contained a shred of creation or destruction, he may have. He lacks Knowledge. They know Sans is looking at his cork-board and placing tacks upon the surface, studying the papers and muttering under his breath, mouthing the word ‘player’ as his jaw clicks in supposed realization.

“Oh Sans,” they try to smile. They think they do. This is how humans express amusement, yes? Do you know? “I cannot be a player. A master of the game can be a player and an ability to manipulate the game belongs to a player. And I am none of these things.”

A story within a game within a story.

You have likely seen them before, be it through the eyes of another or your own.

Do you understand yet?

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Bones N Flowers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16551710) by [DaughterOfHades22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterOfHades22/pseuds/DaughterOfHades22)




End file.
